Walt Disney Academy
by riko-15
Summary: Is school supposed to be where dreams come true? — Disney High School AU
1. Chapter 1

**Walt Disney Academy  
** _is school supposed to be where dreams come true?_

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the story; my take on a Disney high school AU.  
Note: Any components that seem copied from another story is completely coincidental.

* * *

 **1.** ** _MONDAY_**

 _A new school,_ she thought. _A fresh start._

A certain red-haired girl stood before the academy, dazed. She knew that Walt Disney Academy was famous for it's glamorous exterior appearance, but the girl herself had never been right in front of it all. Her mother had described the school and its students as _clean, polished, and refined,_ which were things that Merida Bricken had to work on. The lass let out a long, exasperated sigh, remembering the lecture she was given the night before.

 _"Make sure to be respectful to your teachers and peers. Oh! And eat with your mouth closed. Don't forget to brush your teeth in the morning as well."_ Her mother had continued to list a grand number of things she knew her daughter would forget if not reminded. Luckily, her father assured her that Merida would be absolutely fine, and that she knew how to take care of herself, which, of course, was correct.

Merida was convinced that she wasn't nervous about going to a new school at all. She had no problems at her old high school, so what difference would it make if she were here? But she felt the butterflies in her stomach. Maybe it was because she knew she wouldn't surpass her mother's expectations. _It's fine,_ she said to herself. _You're fine._

Continuing to walk casually under the September sun, Merida decided to eat an apple from her knapsack. It would fill her stomach and get rid of the nervousness. Just as she pulled out a red delicious apple, she felt someone bump into her from behind, causing her to drop her snack.

"Ack!" said a voice. Merida turned around to see a girl with golden hair that reached her waist. As Merida examined her, the girl's green eyes went frantic as she realized the situation. She quickly picked up Merida's apple and handed it back to her, looking embarrassed. "I am so, so, so, so, _so_ sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going, and—"

"It ain't yer fault, lass." Merida smiled at the girl. "I'm still eatin' it, anyways."

Before the blonde could protest any further, Merida took a big bite out of the apple. "It ain't like it's rotten."

The girl let out a sigh. "Again, sorry for bumping into you," she said sheepishly. "I'm Rapunzel Holst, a sophomore." She reached out for a handshake.

Merida shook Rapunzel's hand. "Merida Bricken. I'm a junior."

"Ah, are you new here? You don't seem familiar," Rapunzel asked. "Plus, that uniform looks really new," She gestured to her own clothes. "This one's from last year. New students get fresh uniforms."

Merida responded with a warm chuckle. "Yeah. I moved here from Pixar Secondary."

Rapunzel's eyes went wide, as if she had never heard of something like this before. "Really? You're from Pixar? Wow, that's pretty rare."

"Ya don't say?" Merida questioned.

"Well," Rapunzel said. "Even though Walt Disney and Pixar are very close as a community of students and teachers alike, it's improbable for Mr. Mouse to accept any kids from Pixar Secondary," She paused, thinking for a moment. "You might be the first."

Merida didn't know that Walt Disney Academy and Pixar Secondary were close as a district. Even though she had attended Pixar up until now, she never would've guessed that the two schools had a relation at all. One of the reasons being that every one of Walt Disney Academy's students looked absolutely dashing in their uniforms, whereas at Pixar, students could wear what they wanted (as long as it was appropriate) and they would look either good or bad. Merida, however, felt uncomfortable in her current outfit.

"I guess I'm a wee bit honoured to be the first." Merida stated as she finished her apple. The two laughed before the bell chimed.

"Oh, that's the first warning bell. We better get going," Rapunzel said, starting to walk. "What's your first class?"

Merida followed her towards the entrance. "Math." she said, gagging jokingly.

Instead of a laugh or a smile in return, Rapunzel grimaced. "Ouch. Your first class is with Mrs. Tremaine? Good luck with that."

Worry cast upon Merida at Rapunzel's tone. "Is she that bad?"

"Not if you obey."

Merida groaned. "I _suck_ at obeying."

* * *

She felt at least a hundred stares when she got out of her car.

It wasn't weird, though. It was normal for her to retrieve a grin or two from her schoolmates. Normally it was because they knew she was rich and pretty.

A smile was immediately plastered onto her face as her eyes wandered around the parking lot. People smiled back at her—mostly people she didn't know—but as she was taught, it was good to be kind. At the moment, though, she did not feel kind at all. She wanted to cry somewhere by herself. The conversation she and her father had this morning made her heart sink. It was odd for her to be this angry at him.

Finally, her eyes caught sight of one of her friends. "Jasmine!" a girl waving enthusiastically called from a few parking spaces away. It was Lottie, with her own chauffeur standing beside her holding a large purse that read _Charlotte La Bouff_ in sequins.

The raven-haired girl was about to leave without saying thank you or goodbye to her driver. Just then, the low voice of her chauffeur and the sound of the window rolling down interrupted her. "Miss Jasmine."

She turned back, raising her eyebrows as she walked to the front side of the car. "Yes, Razoul?"

The chauffeur handed her the purse sitting beside him. "Your bag."

She blinked, realizing she had forgotten it while her mind was elsewhere. "Ah," Jasmine took it from him. "Thank you for reminding me."

"Your welcome, Miss. You seemed out of it earlier. Are you feeling alright?"

Jasmine waved her hand. "Oh, I'm fine. Just been thinking, is all," she reassured. "But thank you for asking. Goodbye now."

When the car backed up and drove out of the parking lot, Jasmine sighed quietly as she met up with Charlotte.

"Jas, it's so good to see you again!" Lottie exclaimed after she too beckoned her chauffeur to leave.

Jasmine giggled. "We met up last week to go shopping. That's wasn't that long ago."

"Mmhm, yes, yes, well, it's still good to see you, darling."

"You too, Lottie."

The two friends chatted on their way to the entrance of the school, Lottie being so engaged in the conversation that she didn't notice that Jasmine wasn't actually paying attention. Her mind was still on the discussion with her father.

"So... The boys are looking rather fetching in their uniforms, yet again." Lottie giggled.

That was when Jasmine's recent thoughts popped.

"Hm? O-oh, yes... I agree." she said with hesitation.

Lottie elbowed her as they passed some boys who were smiling at them. "Well, are you interested in anybody? You _are_ quite the catch," She smirked. "Rich, kind, pretty... Any prince would die for you, Jas."

Jasmine didn't want to show any expression, but she smiled at her friend anyways. "Prince? You're making it sound like I'm a princess, Lottie," she laughed halfheartedly. "I don't think I want to be a princess, though. Sounds like too much of a hassle."

"Say what you want, Jas, but this gal would _kill_ to be a princess!" Lottie let out a small squeal.

Jasmine rose an eyebrow at the sweet blonde. "You know, you're too nice to kill."

"Thank you, sweetie, but I'm just joking. Besides, girls who kill don't become princesses at all!"

Just then, two boys, one with black hair and one with cocoa hair, came sprinting down the hall. Behind them was Mr. Mushu, the school janitor. He was soaking wet.

"Hey! Get back here!" Mr. Mushu yelled through the corridor. " _Aladdin Almazan! Flynn Rider!_ I don't know what your intentions were, but making me trip into my own soapy bucket of water—meant for the already clean floors of this school—is _not_ acceptable!" The sound of Mr. Mushu's heavy breathing and his intense, furious expression made him seem like he wasn't just the simple janitor of the academy anymore. "Dishonour on you, dishonour on your family, dishonour on your cow!"

Before she could move out of the way, the black-haired boy—the one who seemed to be named Aladdin—clumsily bumped into her shoulder. During the process, Jasmine cried out and crashed into Lottie, and they both fell to the floor.

Aladdin swiftly turned and started running backwards. "Sorry!" he called with an apologetic smile, then he proceeded to run with Flynn.

Already irritated with her father, Jasmine didn't want to be mad at anyone anymore. She knew that because of the talk with her father, she wouldn't be able to be as kind as she usually was for the rest of the day. So, she took a breath, and shouted to the boy who caused her to topple.

 _"Street rat!"_

* * *

"Dude, did you hear that?" Flynn asked, running behind his childhood friend. "She called you a _street rat._ "

Aladdin shrugged as they turned a corner, surprising other students with their rushed behaviour. No surprise there; he was used to being called things like _thief_ or _troublemaker_ or _weirdo_. What made "street rat" any different? It was still a name that was supposed to hurt him. Aladdin had no idea why, but people didn't like him in general. Just because of some accidental push or a small, harmless prank, people—mostly schoolmates—still decided to label him something other than his name. People just couldn't take a joke.

All Aladdin was trying to do was have fun. Flynn was the only one who seemed to understand that. Because of this dynamic duo, they had earned the name "Double Trouble" from their peers. Not that it was bothering them; it suited them well, after all. The thing was, when people called out "Double Trouble" it was as if Aladdin and Flynn were the villains.

"A street rat, huh?" Aladdin chuckled. "A rat who hangs out in the streets... Seems accurate."

Flynn stared at him as if he was crazy. "Al, do you know _who_ that was?"

He remembered the fallen girl's face. He smirked. "No, why? Anyone important?"

"That was freaking _Jasmine Aryan_ , daughter of the head of the Aryan company. Of course she's important!"

Daughter of the head of the Aryan company? The name sounded strangely familiar to Aladdin, but he couldn't recall where he had last heard about the Aryan family business. No matter. Being the son of a wealthy business man himself, Aladdin knew nothing about business and would never carry on his father's. Where was the fun in working? It was unlikely that Aladdin would even _be_ accepted to work like them. His grades, so far, were decreasing; and he didn't care. Even if he _was_ succeeding in school, he doubted that Cassim—his dad—would even think about handing the company over to his son. _Troublemaker_ was written on Aladdin's forehead, after all.

It wasn't always like this, though. Before Cassim had been offered the job of a business man, he and Aladdin were barely surviving. Aladdin thought of their old home: old and broken down, but still good for living in. Cassim had worked at a nearby grocery store, which managed to get them food and water. And then, one day, Cassim was leaving six-year-old Aladdin home alone for the first time. He came back home telling his son that he finally got a good job that would make them richer than ever before.

Still, to this very day, Aladdin wasn't happy at home.

He missed his dad. Of course, he would come home at night, but then the next morning he'd be telling Aladdin that he was travelling again. He missed the old days, when Cassim was really there for him, when they'd watch TV and bet on which sports team would win or lose, and when Aladdin lost the bet (which he normally did), Cassim tackled and tickled him until they both couldn't breath. The fun had disappeared years ago.

That was where Flynn came in.

.

Aladdin and Flynn had become friends at a grocery store, when they were both around seven-years-old. Young Flynn Rider had spotted little Aladdin stuffing potato chip bags inside his sweater, making his belly look suspiciously bigger than it should be.

 _"Hey,"_ Flynn had said, curious. Little Aladdin jumped at the sudden encounter. The brown-haired boy pointed at Aladdin's overly sized stomach. _"Did you steal that?"_

When Aladdin nodded bashfully, as if he was ashamed of being caught, Flynn smiled. _"Cool! Hey, if I help you get away with this, will you share the chips with me?"_ He gave Aladdin a big, toothy grin. _"I'm... I'm Flynn. Thief extraordinaire!"_

 _"...I-I'm Aladdin."_

In the end, they ate the chips together. Flynn apparently was so great at running around and causing trouble for other customers that Aladdin managed to leave at the exit.

.

Aladdin turned his head, making sure they weren't being followed. "Flynn, I think we lost him."

The two stopped their little marathon at the courtyard, both panting for air. Earlier, before the chase, Aladdin had suggested to prank Mr. Mushu on the first day, since he had heard that the janitor easily gets mad. Flynn, of course, agreed. Aladdin had tripped Mr. Mushu with the mop, while Flynn made sure the bucket of water was positioned so that he was sure to get wet. Mr. Mushu got angrier than Aladdin had thought.

Flynn sighed heavily, then took another large breath of air. "Oh, well. We were destined to have detention on the first week of school."

Aladdin laughed. "We should be careful around Mr. Mushu from now on, or else he'll be giving us P.E. classes we don't need."

The childhood friends laughed as a sign of agreement. This type of fun was what Aladdin wanted with his father. Flynn was like the brother he never had.

"Well," Flynn sighed. "Let's not skip class today."

That shocked him. Flynn loved skipping class with Aladdin. "Why?" Aladdin asked, questioning his friend's queer demeanor.

Flynn gave him a smug look. "Well, for one, it's the first day of school."

Aladdin laughed. "And that matters to you?"

The smugness never left Flynn's face. He rolled up his sleeves. "It does when you know there are going to be pretty girls in your class."

* * *

There was a boy on the other end of the classroom. He was laughing with another boy he just met in class. She couldn't stop looking—this boy was handsome, indeed. Cute auburn hair, delightful brown eyes... Anyone who didn't think this boy was _striking_ was much too crazy for this world.

"Wendy?" a voice called. A hand waved in front of her face.

She blinked. "H-huh?"

Her blonde friend pouted at her. "What are you looking at? A person?"

Wendy laughed nervously. "I-it's nothing, Alice. What were we talking about again?" She felt embarrassed for staring at the boy far too long that Alice had noticed she wasn't even listening.

Her eyes betrayed her and glanced at the handsome boy desks in front of them. She couldn't help it—his face was full of fun and happiness, and it piqued her interest. _What it this?_ she asked herself. She fiddled with the pencil in her hand. _Am I in love? No, no... It's just a small affection. I don't even know who he is._

"You're looking at _something,_ " Alice said, slightly flustered. Before Wendy could insist that it was nothing, she knew that Alice had already found what— _who_ —she was looking at. Alice gasped with a smile. "A boy?" she questioned. Wendy mentally smacked herself.

"My, my, Wendy Darling," Alice giggled. Wendy blushed when she pointed to the boy. "Him? Were you looking at him?"

"I..." Wendy paused, but she knew that it was no use lying to her friend. "...Yes."

Alice's smile grew wider. "Curiouser and curiouser..."

Wendy and Alice went to the same middle school and became close friends ever since. It was nice to have another girl from England. Alice often came over to her house after school; though John and Michael would quickly join their girl talk. Thankfully, Alice liked hanging out with all the Darlings, especially seven-year-old Michael. Whenever Wendy became stern towards her brothers with Alice around, she'd scold Wendy and tell her that she shouldn't be so harsh on them. These two English girls were still friends, nonetheless.

Wendy's eyes flickered to the boy again. She sighed, twirling a strand from her honey-dipped curls. She watched as he smiled again, then turned back to her friend. "Alice, isn't he dreamy?"

Alice squinted at him. She leaned back. "Of course. But you don't even know him, Wendy."

It wasn't like Wendy wasn't social. Sure, she was unsure about the obstacles of high school, but she already had one friend she knew. It wouldn't be terribly hard to make friends, right? Both Wendy and Alice knew that they didn't have all of their classes together, so they would have to make acquaintances throughout the day, but that was better than not speaking at all.

She shrugged. "Then I'll get to know him. It'll be simple."

Alice didn't reply very quickly. Wendy thought she was just daydreaming, but it became clear that she was alert because of something. "Very." Alice mumbled.

"Hm?" Wendy inquired the sudden change in Alice's voice and expression. "Why do you say that?"

Her friend leaned in a little closer, enough so that Wendy could hear her whisper, "Because he's walking towards us."

* * *

 _How unfair._

Tinkerbell gawked at the sore sight. Behind her, Peter was talking to two girls, paying special attention to the one with brown hair.

She couldn't hear the conversation, but the brown-haired girl was loud enough for her to hear her introduce herself. "I'm Wendy. Nice to meet you, Peter."

She knew that face of his. He was being inquisitive. It wasn't fair! Tinkerbell had known Peter far longer than that girl has, yet he seemed interested in her nonetheless! Tinkerbell always tried so hard to get Peter's attention in a romantic way, but her tactics had never worked. How could he flirt with such a simple girl? They were childhood friends; did Peter forget that?

Tinkerbell and Peter had known each other ever since kindergarten. They would chase each other's shadows, and pretend they were pirates off to find their buried treasure. As they grew, those games proceeded to exist. Peter was still very playful, but he became less interested in his studies and started talking about how he never wanted to grow up. _"If I could play every single day and not have any stress in my life, then I don't want to grow up, Tink,"_ he had told Tinkerbell. _"You'll be there for me, right?"_

He thrived for fun and adventure; and if that was what Peter wanted, she would support him.

She wanted to, but she couldn't look away from Peter and that ugly girl. It hurt. What if he started to rely on Wendy to support him and not Tinkerbell? She shook her head, trying to persuade herself that she was overthinking things. But still...

 _She's not even that pretty,_ Tinkerbell thought. _He should be falling for me._

"Ohohohoho," a new voice said. "I see how it is."

Tinkerbell tensed at the closeness of an onyx-haired girl. Her chin rested in her hand as she leaned on Tinkerbell's desk. The girl looked at her with a smirk. "Don't mind me. I'm just observing the situation here."

Surprised by the statement, Tinkerbell could only stutter. "T-there's no situation!"

"Really now?" The girl rose an eyebrow at her. "I know that look."

Tinkerbell rose an eyebrow back. "What look?"

"The one that was one your face just now. It was the look of jealousy."

The blonde scoffed and pouted, trying to change her facial manner. "I am _not_ jealous."

The girl beside her only laughed. "Sure, think what you will. But I know better."

Vexed, Tinkerbell glared at her. "You could never understand how I'm feeling."

Another laugh. "Oh, believe me, I don't want to understand how you're feeling. Looks quite grave," The girl pulled out a candy from her uniform pocket and unwrapped it. She tossed something pink into her mouth. "This is why I don't have a significant other. Candy?"

Tinkerbell pushed the girl's hand away, refusing the treat. "No, thank you."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself. Would've made your breath much better smelling if you were to talk to that boy of yours."

Realization sparkled in Tinkerbell's eyes. She reluctantly extended a hand. "Fine. You prove a point."

The mysterious girl chuckled and handed her a piece of candy shaped like a watermelon. "Vanellope von Schweetz." she introduced. "You?"

The candy tasted wonderful in her mouth, but she wouldn't say it. "I'm Tinkerbell."

"Pleasure to meet ya, Tink," Vanellope said coolly. She gazed at the conversation behind them. "So, why don't you tell me about that handsome friend of yours over there?"

A shiver rolled down her spine at her acquaintance's question. "Don't fall in love with my Peter, too." she begged. Tinkerbell didn't even realize she said that.

Vanellope gasped. "Well, _by golly_ ," She put a hand on her heart. "Why would you say that, Tink?" Her tone was sarcastic yet sweet. Tinkerbell couldn't tell if she meant well or if there was a scheme behind all of this kindness. "Besides, you already have to dread that girl over there. I'm just here if you wanna talk. I'm not gonna do anything mean for you, though. Don't be selfish."

 _Mean? Selfish?_ Why would Vanellope think that she would do something mean to Wendy? She hated to admit it, but Vanellope was right—Tinkerbell was jealous. What if she would be left behind because of this one-sided love? Peter resembled a lady's man—he might not even _be_ with Wendy in the end. It could be some other girl. However, Tinkerbell would still ache inside for the love she would never get. If she _did_ do something to the girl, Peter would be mad if he found out.

 _If_ he found out.

She scowled. "I... I'm not going to do anything mean," Tinkerbell objected calmly. "And you don't have to be there when I wanna talk. You shouldn't even know about Peter and I," She looked down at her feet, hating to see the continuous talk desks away from them. "I don't need you. I hardly know you at all."

Quiet. The murmurs of chatter floated through the room as Vanellope and Tinkerbell shared an unfamiliar stillness. Eventually, a sigh came from Vanellope as she frowned. "Fine," she said. "Sheesh. And here I thought you were a decent lovesick girl who needed a little saving." She took out another candy and chewed it as she walked away, hands in her pockets.

"Maybe you need a lot of saving, Tink."

* * *

Cinderella was late. She didn't even realize that the clock had struck eleven.

She dashed upstairs to put on her uniform. She cursed at the sight of it. "Stupid sisters," she said to the empty room. The uniform was covered in dirt and ashes. _What a lame joke,_ she thought. Anastasia and Drizella must've taken it down to the fireplace. No wonder she had to clean up those cinders.

It was no use. She would be rebuked if she arrived any later than lunchtime. Cinderella didn't dither to put on the dusty uniform. She'd have to make the best of it.

Earlier, when her sisters were preparing for school, Cinderella's stepmother ordered her to do many chores after she had her breakfast. Now she realized that the purpose of that was to make her late for the first day back at Walt Disney. Cinderella was excited for today—her uniform was even fresh from the laundry, dried and pressed, neatly hanging in her bedroom closet. They probably thought that the filthy clothes would make her even later than twelve o' clock, assuming that Cinderella would want to give it another cleaning.

 _They're probably laughing right now,_ she thought. _When I get to school, they'll laugh even more._

Wiping of the excess soot off of her white skirt, Cinderella grabbed her bag, ran back down the stairs and clumsily put on her shoes. Once she was out of the house, she raced for the closest bus stop.

.

She quickly glanced around the cafeteria and spotted her friends at their normal table.

"Cinderella!" Snow White and Aurora exclaimed when she sat down. Of course, her best friends looked absolutely stunning on the first day of school. Diamonds hung from their ears and their lips were stained with gloss. Snow's hair was in it's cute bob-cut while Aurora's was curled to perfection. Cinderella silently envied their clean attire. She could've prettied-up her hair in some way, if the time was given, but she kept the lazy blonde bun. "Where were you? After third period, we thought you wouldn't show up." Aurora said.

Snow looked her up and down. "My word, why are your clothes covered in dirt?"

Cinderella rubbed the back of her neck and scanned the area until she spotted two snickering girls on the other end of the lunchroom. She sighed sadly, disappointed. "Let's just say that my sisters play a part in what happened to my uniform."

Aurora scoffed, glaring at Anastasia and Drizella. They were close enough to see that they were eating with their mouths open. "This isn't fair! You always get pushed around," Her arms crossed, giving Cinderella a concerned frown. "You're the eldest; you're the one graduating this year, not them! You deserve better."

"And I do have better, Rose," Cinderella put a gentle hand on her shoulder. "I have the you both. So please don't worry about me."

Her two friends smiled, appreciating Cinderella's warm words. Snow White let out a small chuckle. "You're the sweetest, Ella. Just... please let us know if you need someone to talk to. We're always here."

There was a short quietness between the three friends, but they were all smiling. Cinderella rolled up her uniform sleeves and gave a loud sigh. "Thanks."

"Tell you what," Aurora piped up. "Snow and I will ask Mrs. Mouse if you can receive a new uniform today. I'm sure she won't mind it if you have one of the spares." She began cleaning up her table space, readying herself to leave the room.

Snow chirped in, loving the idea. She gathered her own dishes. "And we'll do your hair—you'll look wonderful!" Aurora nodded at her doe-eyed friend in agreement.

"Then Anastasia and Drizella will see that you truly wear an air of queenly grace."

.

Cinderella stared at the girl in the mirror.

"This—" She was speechless. "This is too much! Really, you shouldn't have done this for me."

"Nonsense," said Snow. She applied gloss onto Cinderella's lips from the pink bottle in her hands, then stepped away to study the final outcome. "You're gorgeous! I don't even need to add a lot of make-up on you!"

Aurora finished pinning her hair. "There; pretty as a princess."

Cinderella's strawberry blonde hair was put up in a thick bun atop her head, revealing the sapphires dangling from her ears. As Snow mentioned, she had hardly put any make-up on her; just a touch of blush and mascara and lip gloss. Even though it wasn't much, Cinderella thought she looked so much prettier than before. Luckily Mrs. Mouse felt sympathetic for her and decided to give her a spare uniform meant for new students. Now her appearance was more than what she expected it to be on the first day of school.

Aurora's words echoed in her ears. _Pretty as a princess._

As if. Once Cinderella got back home, her sisters would definitely try to ruin her uniform again. She'd be back in her usual rags. She'd be cleaning the whole house again when it was already the cleanest it could be. A princess? No; she was a servant girl.

But she still hoped. There was still hope that one day, she wouldn't be the one cleaning. Faith that her sisters—and maybe even Lady Tremaine—would one day be compassionate enough to at least _help her out._

Smiling in the mirror, Cinderella spoke. "You two are simply more than I could ever ask for."

Snow and Aurora giggled, and the three of them came in for a group hug. "Hey," Snow said. "Anything for our Ella."

* * *

Shang walked into the boys' locker room and changed into his gym strip. He was ecstatic about the first football game they were having this week. It was all he could think about for the first day back, unlike most boys, who were excited about the clubs or the girls. But Shang wanted the feeling of football practice again. This year was going to be different, though. Coach Li, his father, had announced that Shang was going to be vice-coach for the rest of his days at Walt Disney. That was what Shang was excited for: helping out his dad in training his teammates.

He knew that Coach Li wasn't granting him his wish as vice-coach just because he was his son; it was because he knew that Shang was ready for the job. Shang was, by far, the best football player in Walt Disney Academy. His grades in school were in tip-top shape. Shang personally practiced Martial Arts at home, which gave him extra training for his physical strength. This morning, he was even offered the leadership of a Martial Arts Club by the Student Council. _Don't tell me I'm not ready,_ he said to himself.

Once he finished packing up his stuff into his locker, he strode out the door with a confident aura. Before he made his way to the football field, he noticed an unfamiliar face idling by the fence, looking a little lost. Shang regarded that the boy was wearing his gym strip as well. _He must be new to the football team,_ Shang thought.

He waved a hand at the boy. "Hey," he greeted simply. Even though Shang knew he'd be a great leader, he also knew that he'd have to get better at speaking with people. He was socially awkward, and not the best with words. Helping out this boy would give him the aspect of a leader. "You a part of the football team?"

The boy looked at him with surprise. "Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I wanted to try-out."

Shang gave the boy a friendly smile. "Thought so. You can come with me, if you like."

The boy returned the smile. "Thanks."

"I'm Li Shang." he said. He started walking, encouraging the boy the follow.

"Oh," the boy responded, walking alongside him. "So you're the one everyone was talking about. The new vice-coach."

Shang chuckled. So people were talking about him? "Yep, that's me."

"I'm Tarzan Lockwood. One of the 'new kids'."

"So it's your first time at Walt Disney Academy?" Shang inquired.

Tarzan nodded. "Yeah. My family's from England."

With Tarzan beside him, Shang remembered his freshman year at the academy. His dad had just been accepted as the new football team coach. Shang was known as "Pretty Boy", only because Coach Li was always so fond of Shang's dedication to their exercises and never complained about them. Later on, Shang achieved the praise of his father and most of his teammates. Three of them were still quite sassy around him... He didn't let them bother him, though, because he knew that his reaction-less manner would get back at them.

"Cool," Shang said. "You'll like it here. Walt Disney Academy is a great community to be in. Everyone's nice—" He paused, rethinking his sentence. "Well, except for the teachers. I don't know if you agree, but they're pretty nasty."

Tarzan chuckled. "Tell me about it. I had trigonometry with Mrs. Hearts for the last period."

The two of them laughed. Tarzan was actually pretty cool.

"Well, this is where we'll normally meet," Shang said, gesturing to the wide space in front of them. He recognized some of his teammates from last year who were warming up. He grinned when he saw his father scold someone for not doing enough push-ups. "Let's introduce you to my dad. He'll want to check you off on the attendance."

Shang and Tarzan jogged to Coach Li. A pile of footballs lay on his left. "Dad!" Shang called.

The coach spun around at the familiar voice and smiled at the sight of his son. " _Coach Shang_ , good that you're here. I was waiting," It didn't take long for him to notice the boy with dreadlocks beside him. "And who might this be?"

"Dad, this is Tarzan Lockwood. He was hoping to try-out for the team." Shang said. The coach gave him a strange look, but then a smile, impressed that his bashful son took authority in leading the newcomer over.

Tarzan offered to handshake. Coach Li accepted it. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Coach."

"No, the pleasure is mine," he chuckled. "But I'm afraid the try-outs are canceled for today."

"What? Why?" Shang asked, clearly confused.

Coach Li let out a sigh. "The footballs are flat, son."

Shang and Tarzan exchanged a worried glance. "Flat? How come?" Shang asked.

The coach shook his head and shrugged. "The Student Council told me that the footballs would be ready by after school today," He picked up one of the footballs beside him. "But they aren't."

"All of them?" Shang asked, picking one up himself.

"All of them."

Tarzan took the airless football from Shang and inspected it. "Couldn't we just pump them ourselves?" he asked, throwing the ball up in the air and catching it.

Shang seemed to agree with the thought, but Coach Li shook his head. "The school pump is broken and being fixed. That's why I visited the Student Council and asked about the footballs. I don't know how they plan on blowing them up again."

Bothered, Shang's confidence grew. He began walking towards the school building. "I'll go talk to the Student Council."

"Shang, wait," The coach insisted. The black-haired boy groaned, but respected his father's command. "I'm sure the Student Council was busy today. It is the first day back," Coach Li said. "Maybe there was a mishap. I'm sure Tarzan won't mind the wait for the try-out."

Shang looked at Tarzan for reassurance. The boy nodded. "I can wait. As long as I can try out, I'm good."

"Fine," Shang sighed. "I guess we'll just work-out for today. Hopefully the footballs will be fully pumped by tomorrow at practice."

"Now that's a good leader," Coach Li said, ruffling his son's hair. "I like your determination, Coach Shang. Very leader-like," He put a hand on both Tarzan and Shang's shoulders. "How about you two go speak with the Student Council tomorrow morning? I know that they arrive at 7:30 every day to organize."

"Sure thing, dad." Shang said, satisfied with the fact. They shared a father-and-son fist bump.

The coach chuckled. "Now you boys go on and train," he said. The two boys shared another glance, this time with smiles. Once Shang and Tarzan joined the others, Coach Li shouted, _"ALRIGHT, 100 SIT-UPS, LET'S GO!"_

* * *

Charming braced himself. This wasn't going to end very well.

"Look," he said to the girls. "I really don't have the time today. Some other time, perhaps."

The one with red hair leaned in, as if to scrutinize him. "Really? That's too bad." She scrunched her nose, and Charming forced his smile.

The one with dark brown hair leaned in even closer than the other one had. "A shame. We really wanted to hang out."

Charming didn't even know their names. Was it Annalise? Or Drucilla? The only thing he knew about these girls was that they gave off an unpleasant atmosphere.

"I'll let you know when I'm free," he lied. "Well, I'll be off to, um... Fence."

"Alright," the sisters said in unison. "Ta-ta! We'll see you next time!"

Charming smiled politely and walked off, feeling their beady black eyes ogling him from behind. _Hopefully there will never be a next time,_ he prayed.

He let out a big sigh. Honestly, Charming really couldn't handle this "girl problem" he had. Sure, his friends joked around about being jealous of his princely attitude that made all the girls love him, but if they were in his shoes, would they really think that? At first, he was flattered with the adoration the girls gave him beginning in his freshman year, but as the years went by, it became annoying. The girls who favoured him didn't even know his likes and dislikes. They didn't know what type of girls he preferred.

Well, neither did he himself.

His father normally asked how Charming's day went, and if he's met any particular girls he was interested with. Every day, he gave his father the same answer, which was "no". He was glad that his father understood the nuisances he had to go through at school. _"When the time comes, it comes, my son,"_ His father said to him. _"Don't rush love. Once your heart tells you it's true, then it's true!"_ Charming had laughed at his next sentence. _"But once it's true, bring her over for dinner!"_

The hallways were empty, but Charming could see students inside their club rooms, busying themselves with their after-school activities. He passed the Art Club room, where he saw students painting something for some-sort of occasion. He passed the Student Council room, where he saw the president studying some papers she was just handed. He passed the Photography Club room, where he saw its members being given their cameras for the yearbook. Then he passed the Choir room, where—

 _"...A dream is wish your heart makes..."_

Charming stopped for a moment, intrigued by the beautiful voice. He backed up and peeked inside the room behind the door.

 _"...When you're fast asleep..."_

Curious, Charming searched the room with his eyes to find the wonderful singer.

 _"...In dreams, you lose your heartaches..."_

And there, he saw, a girl browsing through a folder of music sheets.

 _"...Whatever you wish for, you keep..."_

She was beautiful. Charming knew he had seen her before around the school, but he never payed close attention. Her apricot-coloured hair was in a high, fluffy bun, and her blue eyes twinkled as she skimmed through her papers. The girl seemed like she didn't find what she was looking for, so she put the papers back in the folder and placed them neatly on the shelf. She moved onto the next folder.

It felt like Charming was watching the pretty girl for hours, but he knew it would be impolite to not introduce himself while he was there. He would be late for his fencing class, too. Anyways, she was bound to notice him sooner or later.

He stepped in quietly and cleared his throat. Alert, the girl stopped humming and turned her head. Their eyes locked for a brief and serene moment.

"Good afternoon." Charming said, dipping his head.

The girl looked slightly shocked to see him, but she replied smoothly. Her voice was sweet and kind. "Good afternoon."

He smiled at the girl, happy that they were speaking. "I was just passing by when I heard someone singing," he said. "You have a delightful voice."

The girl's eyes went wide for a second, but she beamed at him. "Thank you. That's very nice of you to say."

"It's only the truth," Charming stated. "What's your name?"

She was quiet for a moment. "Cinderella," she said.

 _Sounds familiar,_ he thought. He knew he'd seen her at school. "I'm Charming Leclair."

Cinderella rose an eyebrow with a wondering face. "Charming Leclair?" she repeated. Did she know him too? Her face expressed her thoughts, but her face lit up not long after. "Oh, you must be Florian and Phillip's friend!"

Charming wasn't surprised she knew that—everyone in the school probably knew he hung out with the two other equally popular boys. But how she said it was vaguely unusual. "Oh? Are you an acquaintance of Florian and Phillip?"

She nodded. "My friends are their girlfriends." Cinderella explained.

Now it was clear. He had seen her before! "Cinder... _Ella_ ," he said aloud. "You're Snow and Aurora's friend, Ella?"

"Well, yes, that's what they call me."

Charming was happy to have found out her identity. "I'm sorry, I would've known who you were sooner. It's just that they always call you 'Ella'."

"It is my real name." Cinderella mumbled with a cute shrug.

There was a pause. Charming was thinking about what to say next, when he finally decided.

"Say, I have fencing class right now; would you like to come and watch?" Charming invited. "And after... I would love it if we could talk more."

Worry crept into Charming's head, thinking she wasn't interested. They had just officially met—why would she say yes? But Cinderella looked as if she was conflicted. A sigh escaped her lush lips. "I would love to take up on that offer," she said. "But I'm... busy, let's say. I need to do something at home."

Charming frowned, rather upset with the news. If she was busy, then he would respect that. Interfering with her life wasn't his plan. But he didn't want to let her go just yet. There was another silence between the two, but it seemed sadder and awkward. He gave her a little side-grin. "Well, then," he said. "I can wait until you're done whatever you're going to do."

Taken aback by his suggestion, Cinderella thought for a moment. Charming hoped that whatever she needed to do at her house wouldn't take up a lot of time. If she said no, it was no. He'd try again tomorrow. When he looked at the pretty girl again, though, she was smiling. Hope fluttered in Charming's heart. "Actually... Yeah. Yeah, I'll go with you."

He was astonished by the change of thought, but he was overjoyed nonetheless. "Really? What about your job at home?"

She shrugged. "It's not important."

 _This Cinderella..._ She had given up her duty at home just to spend time with him.

"I'll be late for practice if we don't go now," Charming said. He couldn't stop smiling. Casually, he lifted his hand to cover his mouth, like he was about to cough. "Unless, of course, you're not done here." He gestured to the folder in her hands.

Cinderella closed it, then returned it to its place on the shelf. "Oh, I was just looking for a certain song. I can find it another day."

And now she was giving up her time to look for a song just to spend time with him... She was too kind. She was probably going to sing that song with her beautiful voice, as well.

 _This Cinderella..._ Charming thought to himself. _What's this? My heart..._ Charming had to restrain his cheeks from breaking. He was smiling way too hard.

 _My heart says that it's true._

* * *

.

Note: Updates might come each week. It takes me about an hour to finish one panel.  
This was fun to write. Hope you enjoyed!


	2. Chapter 2

**2.** _ **TUESDAY**_

The crisp morning air whipped through her hair as she rolled down her window. A big smile was on her face, optimistic for the day. It was their second day of attending Walt Disney Academy. Anna Olhouser and her sister were being driven to their new school earlier than most.

Anna was slightly upset with the weather. She pleaded to the sky for the sun to come out, but it was filled with clouds ever since she awoke. Then, Anna gazed at the scenery, and noticed that the current weather was perfect for the area. The neighbourhood Walt Disney Academy lived in was surrounded by a forest of tall coniferous trees. It was kind of like a fairy tale, which was what Anna thought. The academy was like a castle, and the forest was where the monsters and the knights would battle for the royally bred.

While she was admiring the landscape, her sister, Elsa Olhouser, was beside her, reading a book. When Anna closed the car window, Elsa glanced at her. At first, Anna was clueless at what her sister was stifling a laugh for, but when Elsa handed her a mirror, they shared the laughter. The wind had made Anna's strawberry blonde hair a mess, making it look like she had just gotten out of bed.

Once they couldn't breathe anymore, Elsa pulled out a hairbrush from her bag. "Here," she said. "You kinda need it."

Anna giggled. "Thanks." She examined the hairbrush—the handle was painted with pink flowers and green leaves. Recognizing the design, she squinted at Elsa. "This is mine!"

"I put it in my bag before we left the house," Elsa stated coolly. But Anna knew she was fighting the laughter again. "I knew something like this would happen."

Anna brushed her hair and parted it into two sides. Elsa offered her hair ties, and she accepted them gladly. By the time they could see the academy's polished walls, Anna's mop of hair was neatly done in their normal braids.

When they pulled up, their car was the only one in the parking lot. Anna was saddened by the foreign quietness of the school. Yesterday, she and Elsa had come a bit later to school; at that time, students were already chatting about how their summer was, or what they were excited for this year. Anna and Elsa were new to Walt Disney, though, but they had quickly made acquaintances.

Anna was excited to reunite with the blonde beauty—Rapunzel Holst. She was the one who ran the Art Club, which Anna had already joined. She was thankful that she also had Rapunzel with her in Mr. Facilier's chemistry class. Since the academy let them choose a maximum of two clubs or activities, Anna also decided to take the Photography Club, lead by the science fiction fanboy, Fred. Anna found him exciting, plus she liked his go-with-the-flow attitude. The pictures he took were mostly of monster-related things he owned in his bedroom.

As for Elsa, Anna was able to persuade her to join the Art Club, just so the two could spend more time at school together. But the reason why they had appeared at school early in the morning today, was so that Elsa could meet up with the Student Council president. Elsa had told Anna that she wasn't interested in any of the other clubs or activities, so she wanted to give the Student Council a shot. They were looking for some new blood, since last year their senior members had graduated.

Anna jumped out of the car excitedly while Elsa thanked their chauffeur. "Wow, we're really early!" Anna said, stretching out her arms.

The two sisters waved at their chauffeur who was now driving away. "Well, Belle said that the Student Council come here at 7:30 everyday to get ready," Elsa told her. "I figured if I got here at this time today, maybe I'd have an advantage of joining them." She started walking towards the school. "Spots are limited."

Anna smiled as she followed her. "They'll accept you. You're the most organized person I know!" she said positively.

Elsa giggled and patted her head. "Thanks, Anna. But that might change when you meet the president of the Student Council."

The two continued to walk to the school. Once they came to the entrance, a handsome boy was leaning on the wall, reading a textbook. He peeked over at them and gave them a charming smile. "Good morning, ladies."

Anna and Elsa both dipped their heads at him with acknowledgement. "Good morning," they answered the gentleman. When they were out of hearing range, Elsa said, "He's probably here for the Student Council as well. Though he's probably not singing up, since he's waiting outside."

Anna nodded. "Maybe there's a problem he knows of?"

"Possibly. That's what the Student Council for—you tell them if something's wrong."

"You're good at that," Anna said. "Now I know you'll get in."

* * *

The morning was brisk and overcast. He didn't expect the weather to change so suddenly. _Yesterday was much warmer at this hour,_ he noticed. Wearily, he looked up at the hazy sky. It wasn't grey enough for it to seem like it would rain, so hopefully the sun would come out later on. Despite what he said the day before, he itched for his try-out on the football team. If rain were to fall, it would ruin his already delayed chance.

Tarzan waited at the front of the school, flipping the pages of his trigonometry textbook. He had Mrs. Hearts' class in the morning this time, and he knew he wouldn't enjoy it. While awaiting Shang, he figured to do a little reading.

Two girls came to the entrance. Tarzan glanced up from his book, politely greeting them good morning. They greeted him back and smiled, and proceeded to enter the building. Tarzan went back to the textbook. _They must be here for the Student Council, too,_ he reckoned. Why else would someone come so early to the school?

After a few more pages of reading, he checked his watch. 7:45. Yesterday, Shang had told Tarzan to meet him by the entrance at 7:30 today so that they could discuss the football issue with the Student Council. They had even exchanged numbers. But Shang hadn't arrived yet.

 _Maybe I should call him,_ Tarzan thought. He pulled out his phone from his pocket. He jumped when it started to ring.

Coincidentally, it was Shang.

Tarzan answered the call. "Hello?"

 _"Hey, Tarzan,"_ Shang said. His voice seemed higher on the phone. _"Sorry, but I had to help out my dad with something. I'll probably get to school around eight o' clock,"_ he explained. There was a small pause. _"You can go in and ask the Student Council yourself. I'll be there as soon as I can."_

Tarzan nodded to himself. "Sure," Tarzan had suspected that Shang would tell him to do so. With his absence, Tarzan could only guess. He closed the textbook and bent down to put it in his backpack. "See you later."

He heard the faint call of Coach Li from the other end of the line. _"See you!"_ Shang said, then he hung up in a rush.

 _They must be doing something for the football team,_ Tarzan thought.

Flinging his backpack over his shoulder, he opened the door to the school. As he walked through the halls, he noticed that the classroom lights were on. He glimpsed inside some of them, and realized that teachers were reviewing their work for the day. When he passed the cafeteria, he gave a wave to Mr. Goofy, the staff member in charge of the food. Tarzan kept wandering until he reached the stairs. His feet went cold when the familiar room was in sight. Naturally, he skipped looking into Mrs. Hearts' trigonometry class.

He was a little lost at first, but he found the Student Council room on the second floor. The door was open, but he debated on knocking anyways. He decided against it when he saw a girl sitting at one of the desks, writing something in her notebook. Tarzan thought she was a regular girl; brown hair, blue eyes, pretty face. But there was this strange fascination lingering in his head. By watching how she held her pencil, he corrected himself—she was actually _drawing_. Still curious, Tarzan watched as she smiled to herself, pleased with her finished piece of art.

Once she put down her pencil, though, her head lifted and she saw him at the door. Tarzan immediately straightened himself. "Oh. Hello," the girl welcomed. She slowly stood and motioned him over. "Come in. Are you... Here for something?" she asked awkwardly. Tarzan felt as if she was uneasy out by the way he was watching her work.

He cleared his throat. "Um... Yeah," he said plainly. Why couldn't he have come up with something smooth? Red-faced, Tarzan couldn't say another word and cursed at himself.

When the girl noted his silence, she smiled cutely. "If you're here to sign up for the Student Council, I'm afraid Belle is already interviewing someone in the library," she explained, walking to a certain shelf behind her. She took out a clipboard with a few names on it. "I can tell Belle you were here, though. You can sign here."

"Oh, no, thank you," Tarzan said, declining the sign-up sheet. "I'm not here for an interview."

The girl looked surprised, but her smile grew anyways. She put the clipboard back on the shelf. "Alright. I can help you with whatever you need, then," she said cheerfully. "I'm Jane Porter—the vice president of the Student Council. Nice to meet you."

Tarzan couldn't resist grinning, content to know her name. "I'm Tarzan. I'm actually here to ask about the footballs."

Jane dug for another clipboard from the same shelf while she listened. She looked a bit puzzled. After flicking a few pages of it, she was still perplexed, as if she couldn't find the right sheet. "The footballs?" She said it as if she had no clue what Tarzan was speaking about.

He rose an eyebrow at her, amazed she didn't know about it, being the vice president. "Yesterday," he said. "Coach Li said he came here in the morning to see when the footballs would be pumped. But they still had no air in them by practice time."

Jane nodded at his story and flipped through the papers again. "Well, I can't seem to find it on our to-do list schedule for Monday..." she said worriedly. "That's strange. Maybe..."

Jane placed the clipboard back on the desk and moved to the shelf again. She pulled out a notebook this time, studying its pages. Her eyes went wide and frenzied. "Oh, no, no, no, no, no..." she muttered. "Blast—that might be my fault." Jane lifted the notebook up to her face, like she didn't want Tarzan to see her embarrassed. "I might've mixed up some notes by accident."

Tarzan sighed. So it _was_ a misunderstanding. He didn't want to say that, though, seeing Jane's state at the moment. "No, it's... it's okay, really."

"No, no, I feel silly for doing this. I'm sorry," she apologized. Jane laugh nervously and lowered the notebook from her face and blushed. "The footballs were actually scheduled for today. They should be ready with air after school."

He was relieved to hear that he would be able to try out for the football team today. For some reason, he couldn't be mad at the girl. "Everyone makes mistakes," he said kindly, hoping it would make her feel better. His heart warmed at the sight of her smile again.

"Thank you for clearing up the confusion. It's appreciated," he said.

Tarzan, for some reason, didn't want to leave just yet. Disliking their uncomfortable silence, he stole a quick peek at her sketchbook she left open. It was a picture of the flower pot sitting on a desk by the door. Tarzan became more interested in the drawing and picked up the sketchbook without thinking. Jane laughed timidly again. He gazed at her with astonished eyes. "You drew this?" he asked.

"Oh, well, you know, I, um... I like to dabble and scribble sometimes," she stuttered. "I was alone in the room, so I... Well, the plant was sitting right there with _the most_ perfect angle, so I couldn't resist! B-but it's really—"

"Good!" Tarzan finished for her. She tensed up, so he smiled brightly to hearten her. "Actually, it's amazing. I've never seen anyone draw like this before. You're talented."

Jane moved a strand of her chestnut hair behind her ear and bit her lip. "I... Wow, thank you," she said. "The compliment... That was very kind."

"Well, hey," Tarzan handed her back the sketchbook. Their fingers brushed against each other. Noticing this before Jane, he quickly pulled away. "It's only the truth."

Tranquility hung in the air once more, but it was soothing this time around as they stared at each other. Tarzan coughed. "I'll, uh... I'll be off, then," he said, realizing he was distracted by her sparkling round eyes. It was quickly getting hotter in the room. "Thanks again for the help. Keep drawing." Tarzan headed for the door.

"Yeah," he heard Jane say. "I-I'll see you around." She waved.

The joy spread throughout Tarzan's body. He definitely wanted to see her again. "Yeah."

He took in a big gasp for air once he closed the door. A mix of emotions twirled in his head. He was embarrassed and happy to have gone out of the room, although he was also sad and disappointed in himself that he had left Jane. He had never met anyone who made him feel this way before. Of course, there were plenty of beautiful young ladies back in London, but Tarzan took a strange liking into Jane. Tarzan rolled up his uniform sleeves, still feeling warm. There was a large happiness in his heart, and he loved how it was because of the Student Council's vice president.

As he walked down the stairs to the first floor, there was someone jogging towards him. It was Shang.

"Tarzan," he said, giving him a pat on the back. "Sorry about being late. My dad needed some help getting some weights. Looks like we're doing more than push-ups after school."

Tarzan shrugged, his mind elsewhere. "It's cool."

They started walking towards the entrance again. Students gradually started parking their cars and greeting their friends. "Did you talk to the Student Council?" Shang asked.

"Yeah," Tarzan said, practically a whisper. Jane was still on his mind.

"Well?" Shang pressed. "What did they say?"

Tarzan rubbed the back of his neck. "The footballs were actually scheduled to be pumped today. There was a mix up," he said, pretty much humming it all.

Shang seemed to love the news. "That's better than nothing. At least we know you can try-out today," he said. When Tarzan didn't answer excitedly, Shang squinted at him. "You okay? Why are you smiling so much?"

Tarzan abruptly stopped rubbing his neck. "Am I?" he quizzed Shang, but the question was mostly for himself.

"Yeah," Shang answered. He chuckled. "It looks like you were just with a girl."

There was a tug at his heart at the thought. With a dreamy sigh, he truthfully replied to Shang.

"I was."

* * *

Quasimodo hated going to school.

He didn't hate his classes, although they could be better. He didn't hate the teachers, although some of them were quite harsh. He didn't hate Mr. Mouse or any of the staff. Then, what _did_ Quasimodo hate? Yet again, what did Quasimodo _like_ about Walt Disney Academy?

It was his peers that he hated. He hated how, with just one glance, they'd quickly walk away and avoid him forever. He hated how they judged him because of his appearance. What did they think he was going to do? Hurt someone? He hardly had the capacity to even insult anybody. It was unfair to treat him like an outcast. He deserved better, and he knew that he wasn't being selfish. What had he done to the world? Nothing. But he guessed that the biggest thing he'd done wrong was come into the world in the first place. At least, that's what it felt like, with everyone's disgusted glances and wrinkling noses at the sight of him.

He wasn't too miserable at school, though. Some people were nice to him, such as the Art Club members. Kristoff was his closest guy-friend in the whole school. The rest of the boys would occasionally tease Kristoff for hanging around someone like Quasimodo, but Kristoff claimed that he liked spending time with him.

But there was one friend who was closer to him than Kristoff was.

She gave him the hope that he needed to one day, have everyone see him in a better light.

He was thankful for Esmerelda. She was always there when he needed her the most, whether it was to stand up for him or to just speak with him like normal people would with each other. Quasimodo thought of her as a great friend, but he couldn't help crushing on the beautiful dancer. He loved how she saw the better in him. She was the first, after all.

He turned to the left corridor. Quasimodo's first class was English, with Mrs. Holst. She was one of the nicer teachers. It wasn't shocking that she was the mother of Rapunzel Holst, one of his very few allies who went with him to Art Club. They were both especially kind to Quasimodo, and he always thanked them for their respect.

His thoughts disappeared before he could even get to his classroom. Fear rushed down his spine when he heard a familiar voice call out to him.

"Hey, Gorilla!"

 _No,_ Quasimodo thought. He quickened his pace, knowing that the voice was coming from right behind him. _Not again. Please. Leave me alone._ If he could just make it to the classroom, he'd be protected by the attention of a teacher. To his dismay, Mrs. Holst's room was at the end of the hallway.

Why did it have to be Gaston? That smirking hunk was the main reason Quasimodo always came to school frightened. Gaston Chevalier was one of the academy's bullies, with Hans Vinter right beside him in the rankings. The two had picked on him from the very start. Sometimes, when teachers questioned them, they'd be sarcastic and say that Quasimodo was their best friend, and would "never" bully him. _"Not in a million years!"_ they'd say. What a lie.

He despised how he couldn't stand up for himself. Even after summer vacation, Gaston and Hans harassed him whenever they could in the hallways. In the cafeteria, they'd steal his lunch and he didn't ever protest, even though it left him hungry for the rest of the day. _How pathetic,_ Quasimodo always thought. Nothing would change unless his face did. _I'm pathetic._

"Hey," Gaston boomed again, this time with a crueler tone, causing Quasimodo to stop in his tracks. Students nearby dashed passed him, wanting to stay away, since they knew how this was going to end. Nobody seemed to recognize the terror in his eyes, which were desperately pleading for help.

Gaston had caught up to him. He gave Quasimodo a big push into a neighbouring locker. "Answer when I say 'hello', Gorilla!"

Quasimodo's whole body shook with pain as Gaston cornered him with nowhere to escape. He hated the big, ugly, sinister smile Gaston always had. For some reason, he only used it on Quasimodo. That fact scared him to pieces. "Yes, yes, that's right, Gorilla," Gaston cackled, pulling his uniform collar. "You've got nowhere to go."

Hot tears were forming in his eyes, but Quasimodo refused to let them go. Not in front of Gaston. That would only amuse him even more.

Finally, he heard the sound of tambourine bells.

"His name is _Quasimodo_ , Gaston."

It was Esmerelda.

Gaston turned, stunned that she confronted him. Realizing who she was, he laughed. "What did you say to me?"

Esmerelda crossed her arms, the tambourine jingling from the movement. "Are you deaf?" she asked with a scoff. Quasimodo wanted to stop her from provoking Gaston, but his throat went dry as Esmerelda lifted her chin, challenging the bully. "Or do you not know how to say his name?"

Gaston's face went red, furious. Satisfied, Esmerelda continued. "What? Are you in kindergarten? His name has four syllables, Gaston. Repeat after me—"

"His name is _Gorilla,_ " Gaston argued, tightening his grip on Quasimodo's collar. He didn't want to watch. What could Esmerelda do?

To his surprise, she laughed. "No, no, no. You pronounced it wrong, Kindergartner," Esmerelda countered sweetly, saying it as if Gaston were a child. "Here, you can say it with me: Qua-si-mo-do." She used her tambourine to count the syllables in his name. "See? It's that easy, Gaston."

He only laughed at her proposition. "And if I don't say his name?" he asked her.

Esmerelda smiled smugly. Quasimodo knew that smile. Everything was planned. "Well, actually, I was just on my way to meet Belle."

Silence. Gaston kept his scowling face as Esmerelda kept her grinning one. "You know," she went on. "Maybe you'd like to tell her what happened here. Belle could definitely teach you how to say Quasi's name."

With hesitation, Gaston groaned and backed up from Quasimodo, freeing him from his grasp. He fell to the floor, but at least he was unharmed. "Fine," Gaston huffed. "Just don't bother me again, 'Quasimodo'."

 _I wasn't doing anything to you before you came here,_ Quasimodo cursed in his head.

As if he read his mind, Gaston turned to glare at Quasimodo. The fright came back for a second, but he remembered that Esmerelda was still here beside him, smirking at the bully. Anyone could tell that Gaston hated the situation right now. All you had to do was threaten to tell Belle, and he'd stop. With a grunt, Gaston eventually walked away.

"Hey," Esmerelda said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"

Quasimodo sighed, but gave her his best smile. He wasn't going to let what just happened now bother him when he had time with one of his few friends. "Yeah," Quasimodo replied. The two were alone in the empty hall, both late for class, and the stillness echoed the biggest lie he ever told anyone.

 _"I'm fine."_

* * *

 ***** _How dare she. I was having fun._

Gaston stomped into his next class. The only thing on his mind at the moment was his encounter with the Gorilla and the tambourine girl. It had happened two hours ago, before first period, and his eye was still twitching at the thought of Quasimodo being defended by someone as pretty as that girl. Gaston thought he could've easily manipulated her into falling for his good looks, but she saw right through it.

It made Gaston even more irritated to know that Quasimodo even had a friend. And that friend was a girl, for crying out loud! She had practically forced him to say that Gorilla's name—he felt like he had no choice but to. The fact that the girl had threatened to tell Belle was horrifying for Gaston Chevalier. He couldn't let Belle find out he was picking on Quasimodo—and even if she did, he'd find a way to win her back... _Somehow._

Belle Desrosiers was the girl he was courting ever since she came to Walt Disney Academy. When they had met, she was a freshman, while Gaston was in his sophomore year. At first sight, he thought she was beautiful—well, of course, all of the boys did—despite her intellectual and imaginative personality. Sure, he thought she was strange for reading all day, but he wanted her nonetheless.

After a few days of getting to know her by flirting in their classes or clubs, Gaston confessed with a bouquet of roses that year. Freshman Belle was stunned with Gaston being the first to do so, but she had given Gaston her usual, kind smile, and politely declined the confession.

Gaston was angry and disappointed at Belle for not accepting him, but he couldn't stay mad at her. He told her that he was confident he'd somehow win her heart one way or another. Belle had nodded awkwardly, but it didn't seem like she agreed. Her words from that day always echoed in his ears. _"You can try, Gaston."_

And he kept on trying.

It was his second day of being a senior, and he had already planned which flowers he would give Belle today after school. When Belle became a sophomore a year ago, she was accepted to be the vice president of the Student Council. After the senior president from last year left Walt Disney before the school year ended due to moving away, the beautiful brunette then took his place. Gaston knew that the job was busying, which was why he had decided to greet her everyday to keep her company.

Although, for most of the time, she didn't _want_ his company.

He found that annoying. At times, when Gaston would generously give up his time (to probably be with a mirror) just to meet Belle, she pushed him away. All he wanted was to be beside Belle. Was that too much to ask for? It might've been, but Gaston thought he was as equally good as she was. They would be the prefect couple. But Belle was refusing the offer.

When history class finally finished, Gaston could hardly remember a word that Mr. Hook had said in the lesson. Of course, it didn't matter to him, so once the bell rang he was out of his chair faster than anyone else. He had calmed down from the Gorilla incident. Thoughts of Belle whisked his anger away.

"Gaston," a voice said, intervening the image of Belle in his head. The handsome hunk eyed his friend who caught up to him. "Did you even pay attention to Mr. Hook? I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't, but you seemed to be... daydreaming?"

Gaston laughed, but it scared others away from the two boys. "I don't daydream, Hans," he said, slapping his copper haired companion on the back. Hans tensed up, but by now he should've been used to the "friendly" gesture. Gaston gave a gleaming smile, which somehow seemed menacing. "I _think_. I think of ways to—"

"'Win Belle's heart'?" Hans interrupted. After being friends with Gaston for quite a while, he already knew the answer to almost all of Gaston's quotes. "Yeah, yeah. I know. You really like her but she doesn't like you back."

"'Like' doesn't even begin to describe how I feel for her!" Gaston said, a certain longing in his voice.

Hans chuckled. "Then would 'love' suffice?"

"Yes!" Gaston exclaimed.

People began to stare because of his loud manner, but that was a typical aspect of the day. He was about to say something when he saw Hans roll his eyes at the statement. Gaston smirked. "You don't know how I feel. You don't 'love' anyone romantically at the moment, do you?"

Hans playfully rose an eyebrow at him. "Actually, I romantically _like_ someone."

Surprised, Gaston scratched his head. This was a first. He knew that Hans had never liked anybody, but his announcement seemed to be the truth. Hans was obviously a heartthrob at the academy because of his chivalry towards girls, but he never took any confessions seriously. He still couldn't believe that Hans was more popular than him with the ladies. Well, it was probably because they knew he wanted Belle, was what Gaston thought.

"Well, then, who's the lucky girl?" Gaston pressed, elbowing Hans.

"I don't really know her, but I saw her in the halls and I knew I've never seen her before." Hans said with a light laugh. "I introduced myself, and I think she might already have an interest in me. Maybe I'm overreacting, but I kind of feel it in my bones."

Gaston nodded at his story. "Is she pretty?" he asked.

"Of course," Hans replied. "Why would I be attracted to someone I just met if I didn't think they were pretty?"

The two friends walked into the cafeteria and lined up for the food. "Okay..." Gaston urged as he grabbed an apple. "What's her name?"

Hans looked up at him after he picked up a bowl of salad. "Anna," he chirped happily.

Peers shrunk in fear of Gaston as girls cooed at Hans, wanting him to come over at their tables. Hans smiled and dismissed their offer with a wave of his hand. As they took their seats, they continued to talk. "Can you point her out?" Gaston said, looking around the room. "She must be really cute if you're that in love with her."

"Yeah," Hans said. His eyes searched for the table she was at. "There!" Hans said, with a tone that seemed to be half excited and half calm. He pointed to a table in the corner of the room. "She's the one with the braids—actually, wait, don't look."

Perplexed at the sudden change of face, Gaston asked, "Why not?"

Hans laughed wholeheartedly. "Well, you won't even look at her, and I know that for a fact."

"And how would you know?" Gaston said impatiently.

Hans sighed and pointed to the table again. "Because Belle's there. You won't look at any other girl if she's in the picture."

Gaston turned around at the sound of her name. Hans was right. All the other girls' faces were blurred in his eyes.

* * *

.

 **Note: *** I know Gaston should be vain and very flirty with other girls, but in a high school, I imagine him to actually  
be in _love_ with Belle, not just want to marry her since she's the most beautiful girl in the village (like in the movie).  
Of course, I gave him his egotistical and pitiless personality, but I think he'd be less... murderous.

As for Hans, I feel the same way about him if he were to go to a high school—even though he has no advantage of Anna.  
I picture him to take an actual interest in her, but later manipulate her into going out with him if she refuses.

I felt like I should justify their personalities in my AU.

.

Hope you enjoyed! This chapter was a deep pleasure to write, mostly because of the smidgen of drama. :)  
 ** _I'll probably make the upcoming chapters shorter—I know these chapters have a lot to take in._**


	3. Chapter 3

**3.** _ **TUESDAY,**_ _ **after school**_

Belle Desrosiers was sitting in the Student Council room after school. The room was empty, but Belle savoured the quiet. Not that she disliked having her fellow Student Council members in the room—when they were in the room, everyone would talk about upcoming events and who would be responsible for what. Belle just wanted to enjoy the serenity while it was still there. Being the president, it was difficult to concentrate with noise everywhere. At the moment, she was arranging a schedule for the first school year event: a back-to-school party.

Belle was not one for social festivities, but since it was a party to reconnect with the friends you haven't seen in the summer, she thought it would be nice to have one. The party would be in the school gymnasium. White cloth for the tables, plenty of cutlery and napkins... As for the decorations, she decided she'd ask the Art Club to whip up something suitable. The Cooking Club would probably love to contribute by bringing some food. Maybe some students from Band or Choir would like to do some numbers... Or perhaps someone from the Science Club knew a DJ?

Organizing, for Belle, was a piece of cake. Her Papa, Walt Disney's physics teacher, had a job of his own back home—fixing cars. Most of the time, when they got back to the house, Belle would tag along with her father to go to his auto repair shop. She would read as Papa worked, watching him get oily hands. When children came along with their parents, Belle would offer to play with them as their car was being repaired. Parents would insist on giving her a tip, but she always declined and said the playing wasn't a part of their service. Seeing her Papa work everyday made Belle motivated to run the Student Council. Her hardest tries always took place in the school.

A year ago, once she became president, it was her job to pick new members for the team. She knew she wasn't wrong for picking her artsy best friend, Jane Porter, to be the vice president. She entrusted her to take care of things if Belle was sick or busy with a certain problem. But Jane was also honest—this morning, when she came back from the library after interviewing Elsa Olhouser, Jane truthfully admitted her mistake of mixing up the football inflating issue. Belle understood that everyone made mistakes, so forgiving her was easy.

As for the other Student Councilors, Belle had asked three of the Science Club's most organized members to join: Tadashi Hamada, a wise yet optimistic boy who wants to be a robotic engineer; Wasabi, the smart and sensible guy who was Papa's favourite in his class; and Honey Lemon, the eccentric yet affectionate girl who loves chemistry. They had all agreed to join and participated in the Student Council ever since.

Milo Thatch, Belle and Jane's friend, was the one who excelled in both their geography and history classes. They had asked him to join last year, but he had said no, worried that his studies on Atlantis might be delayed and eventually stopped because of the busy activity. But with some pleading and promises, Milo had officially joined the Student Council. From what Belle knew, Milo still had time for those studies while he helped assembling events for the school.

The girl she had interviewed this morning, Elsa, who was new to Walt Disney, seemed promising. Belle wanted to have some new blood in the council this year. Elsa was benevolent and intelligent, regarding her grades from her previous school in Norway. Thinking about it throughout the day, Belle planned on going to the Art Club later today to let Elsa know that she wanted her to join the team.

When her list was complete, she gathered her sheets and paper-clipped them together. She got up from her seat and photocopied some extras, just to be safe. After putting the original copies in a separate folder, Belle headed for the door. But someone was already there.

"Hello, Belle."

Dissatisfied with the person in front of her, Belle swallowed and forced a smile. "Oh, Gaston. Hi."

Of all people, why did Gaston have to be the one to visit her? He did the same thing last year: visit her when she was in the Student Council room, probably working, or just about to leave the building. Belle had rejected him in her freshman year, but he still couldn't take the hint that she didn't want him around. She couldn't put it in a nice way—how could someone nicely tell a person to go away? His meetings with her, at first, were very pleasing, as he would shower her with gifts and roses. But as time rolled on, Belle became bored with these acts of kindness. She felt like Gaston was waiting for her to return her feelings.

But she couldn't. She would never. Not for Gaston; he was narcissistic, boastful, and argumentative with others. He wasn't for her. Plus, she knew that he thought they were "perfect" together, just because their outside appearance matched fine. Their personalities, well, Belle thought otherwise.

She didn't want to notice the bouquet in his hands, but Gaston pushed it into her arms. "Calla lilies. For you, Little Lamb."

Belle let out a strange giggle at the nickname. "Oh my, Gaston," She feigned jollity. "These are beautiful! I'll put them right here."

Turning away from him, she walked to a desk with a flower pot atop of it and replaced the already fresh flowers with the calla lilies. She pretended to fix up the lilies, as if their position didn't appeal to her. "There, very ni—"

Belle stopped mid sentence as arms snaked around her waist. Gaston gave her a soft hug. Belle went rigid, but didn't say a word. Just having him in the same room sickened her to the point where she couldn't speak. She could vomit any time now. Trying to be patient with him, she laughed apathetically and unwrapped herself from him, giving no care if Gaston noticed her unenthusiastic air. He looked confused, but Belle patted his big hands with a "happy" smile.

"This was very sweet, Gaston," she said. Sticking to the plan in her head, she went on. "Now, I've got some more stuff to do in here. Why don't you go join your, uh... Football teammates?" she suggested, lightly pushing him towards the door. "I bet they need you right now. They can't practice without your handsome face there, can they?"

Beaming at the compliment, Gaston turned to Belle. "You're right! They need me!"

He leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, but Belle easily dodged his lips. It was habitual for Gaston to try, but Belle got too used to the attempts. She coaxed him out the door. "Yes, yes, Gaston! Hurry, go—I'll see you sometime soon," she lied.

They waved to each other as Gaston raced through the hall. Waiting a few moments by the door to make sure he wouldn't come back, Belle sighed with relief when her surroundings were quiet again. She disliked playing with Gaston's egocentric feelings, but she knew it would be the only way for him to stay away from her for a long amount of time.

Some girls would give Belle a flattering remark, telling her how lucky she is to have Gaston. But she would always reply, "Oh, I'm not dating him. He just likes me." People would think she was odd for not taking advantage of the handsome, muscular man.

Besides, Belle knew Gaston was taken—wasn't he already dating himself?

* * *

 ***** On a scale of one to ten, Tinkerbell rated the second school day as a zero.

She discovered that she shared three classes with Wendy Darling; Mrs. Queen's nutrition and wellness class, the room where she first saw Peter and Wendy introduce themselves, was the one she detested the most. It was where she'd witness the two lovebirds interact, whether it was a merry hello, a sad goodbye, or the lively conversations they'd have in between. Heck, when Tinkerbell turned around to snatch a peek at Peter this morning, she saw him passing a note to Alice Endicott, who then passed it to Wendy, who gave a small titter after she opened the piece of paper.

When Tinkerbell's eyes left the scene, she realized that Vanellope was watching, too.

Things were troublesome between her and Vanellope. Ever since her comment yesterday, Tinkerbell couldn't face the candy-lover. It was beginning to feel like Vanellope was tracking her every move, as if she knew Tinkerbell would pull someone's leg. The idea was still appealing.

 _No,_ Tinkerbell told herself. _Don't think like that. It's not nice._

She didn't want to do anything that would cause Wendy troubles. At least, she convinced herself that she wouldn't. But there was a tiny part of her that desired for a hateful plan. The only thing that was stopping her from making one was because of Vanellope.

Her thoughts rambled on as she strolled through the hall, binders in her arms. She was grateful to finally go home after a day without talking to Peter. After yesterday, she felt agitated when she was with him. It wasn't that she didn't like him anymore—of course she still did!—his flirty relationship with Wendy just made her nauseous. When she thought about it for a while in class, she decided that maybe she needed some space and time to reflect.

"Tink!"

 _Speak of the devil._

She spun around. Peter was running to her. She couldn't help but admire his auburn locks and hazel eyes as he halted to a stop beside her. "Peter?" She questioned his rushed behaviour. "Is something wrong? Did something happen?"

He smiled at her while panting from the sprint. Her distraught look made him chuckle. "Nothing, Tink," he said breathlessly. Peter wiped his eyebrow. "I wanted to walk home with you. I was worried you'd leave without me."

Blush crept up her cheeks as she turned to start walking again. "O-oh."

The two walked on, both not saying a word. Was this what it was going to be like now? Walking with Peter with this unknown hush that fell upon them? Tinkerbell didn't want this. Tinkerbell itched to speak to Peter, but no words came from her throat. She could tell that Peter wanted to talk too, judging by how his eyes were wandering around themselves. Once they were outside, Peter spoke.

"...Are you okay, Tink?"

The question made her stop walking for a moment, but she quickly resumed herself. "Yes. Why do you ask?"

Tinkerbell eyes didn't reach his, but she felt him look at her with uncertainty. "You don't have to lie."

"Lie?" Tinkerbell turned to him and crossed her arms. "I'm not lying," she insisted.

 _It hurts,_ she thought. _To lie that I'm not lying._

"Okay..." Peter's voice drifted, searching for more words. "Then, can you tell me why you've been avoiding me?"

He found out. He knew. Tinkerbell feared this outcome—she didn't want to explain anything. Telling Peter that she was jealous of Wendy might cause him to dislike her. She knew that her friend took a liking into that ugly girl, and saddening him would sadden herself. Would she have to lie again? It wasn't the right thing, but for them both not to get hurt...

"There's... there's nothing to tell, Peter."

 _Lies, lies, lies._

"Now I know you're not telling the truth," he said, frowning. Tinkerbell stiffened at his judgement. When she snuck another glimpse at him, Peter looked genuinely concerned for her. "Tink, you know you can come to me if you wanna talk, right?" He sighed before asked, "We're friends, aren't we? You can tell me."

Tinkerbell clenched her fists, overwrought. "I said there's nothing to tell."

She wanted to see that wondrous smile of his, but his frown was still there. "Stop being stubborn. Just tell me."

So he wouldn't listen to her now?

"There's nothing wrong, _alright?!_ " Tinkerbell yelled.

She turned to Peter with wild eyes, but tears momentarily penetrated them when she saw Peter's downcast face. Ashamed with herself, Tinkerbell clutched her school bag and ran back to the school, pushing people out of her way, so no one would see her crying. She was thankful yet crestfallen that she didn't hear Peter following her. _But he had said we were friends,_ Tinkerbell said to herself. _Wouldn't friends chase the one running? To see if they're okay?_

Enraged again, Tinkerbell wiped her tears and willed herself not to cry. _Some friend you are, Peter Pan._

She slammed the door of a random classroom, closing herself in. Slowly, Tinkerbell sat on the floor. "Don't cry. _Don't cry_ ," she whispered to herself.

But she did.

"Oh," someone said, causing Tinkerbell to look up.

Someone was about to leave the classroom and she didn't even notice them standing in front of her.

Recognizing the student, Tinkerbell went wide eyed. Tinkerbell clumsily got up, but the girl put on her headphones and stepped behind Tinkerbell. Avoiding eye contact, the girl opened the door. "Vanellope..." Tinkerbell sniffed, rubbing her tears off with clenched hands. Vanellope ignored her and exited the classroom. "Vanellope!" Tinkerbell cried.

She didn't want to accept it, but she knew that Vanellope was her only ally.

At Tinkerbell's wail, Vanellope turned. She popped her bubblegum. "I don't know what happened, Tink," she said, walking backwards now, like she was bored. With her hands in her pockets, she shrugged. "If it's about Peter, I'm sorry," Vanellope spun around casually, continuing to walk away.

Tinkerbell was going to call out again, but Vanellope had already said some familiar and bitter words.

 _"'I could never understand how you feel'."_

And, with a close of the entrance door, Tinkerbell was left all alone.

* * *

"A back-to-school party?" Rapunzel asked, turning from her easel.

Jane nodded, reading the paper she had just received. Belle had stopped by the Art Club room and greeted them all a good afternoon. She had also talked to one of their new club members, Elsa, and when the president walked out of the room, she and her sister were squealing with delight. Moments later, though, they mentioned they got a call from their chauffeur and left the room. Kristoff and Quasimodo, the boys of the Art Club, both had to leave too, which left friends Rapunzel and Jane.

"We're in charge of the decorations, it seems," Jane said, laying the paper on the table. "Belle said we should start tomorrow, and plan today."

Rapunzel put her hands on her hips. The paintbrush she held lightly stained her apron, which was already coated with other colourful splatters. "Well, there'll be no problem there," she said proudly, spinning the paintbrush in between her fingers. "The school stocked us with new paints and banner paper. I thanked Mrs. Mouse after class ended—apparently she had some friends who generously donated funds for the school activity needs. A portion of that went to our supplies."

Jane laughed as Rapunzel accidentally smeared her face with yellow paint. She handed her a tissue. "That's great," Jane said, pulling out a chair. She sat down and scanned the paper again as Rapunzel wiped her cheek. "We'll definitely do a banner. I know there are a bunch of streamers left in the supply closet, so we could use those too... Oh! Balloons! Do we have balloons?"

Rapunzel shrugged with a small pout. "I checked, but they didn't supply us with new balloons. We used the rest of them for the seniors' graduation party last year."

"Hmm... I suppose we'll just buy some ourselves." Jane concluded. "I'm busy after club sessions end, though..."

"I'll buy them," Rapunzel offered. "There's a dollar store a walking distance away from my place. I'll just stop by there once we finish up."

Jane smiled. "Perfect! Now..."

The blonde didn't really listen to Jane continue listing off what they would need for the decor. Her mind was on the idea of a party—it would be her first time, if she was going to this one. She had never been to a party. Yes, she was invited to parties before, but the situation was complicated. She had never even been to a birthday party in elementary school.

When Rapunzel was small, she had asked her mother about going to a classmate's birthday celebration. She went on and on about how her friend's parents planned to rent a bouncy castle for the occasion. The young blonde was dancing with excitement as she told her mother, sure that she would allow her to go.

But her mother had given her cold eyes and stopped Rapunzel's prancing. Holding her shoulders, her mother said, _"Flower, I've told you many times before that the outside world we live in is dark and greedy and dangerous—what if you get hurt, Rapunzel? We can't have that, now can we?"_

Rapunzel had shook her head in agreement, remembering the lesson she was taught year after year. _"No, Mommy."_

Her curly-haired mother had smiled warmly at her and petted the young girl's head. _"You'll stay home. With me. Okay, Flower?"_

With a nod, Rapunzel had felt glum without her mother's approval. _"Yes, Mommy."_

That was the past. That was Mother Gothel.

She shook her head at the thought of her foster mother, wanting to forget. Instead, to keep her joy, Rapunzel filled her mind with other party-related thoughts, like the music, the dancing, the _magic_. She imagined herself in the middle of the gym, long hair braided and decorated with flowers that matched her attire. And as she would move her feet to the beat of the music, a cute guy would go up to her and ask if she would like to dance. She let out a giggle at the thought of being around boys.

Jane noticed and looked at her strangely. "What's so funny?"

Rapunzel tittered happily and waved at her friend. She recommenced to paint as she spoke, dipping her brush into the container of water. "I was just thinking..." she said, stroking a golden swirl onto her canvas. "Would we need to bring a _date_ to the party?"

When there wasn't a quick response, Rapunzel glanced at her friend, but her eyes went wide as she saw Jane blush at the idea. "A... A date, you say? W-well, I... I suppose we should? I mean, I'll ask Belle," Jane said, clearing her throat afterwards.

Suspicious, Rapunzel leaned in and put down her paintbrush. "Jane Porter," she started with a smirk. "Do you have someone on your mind? Someone you'd want to ask you out to the party? A _crush_ , perhaps?"

She smiled with a sense of victory when the red on Jane's face deepened. "No! N-no..." she stuttered. Rapunzel contained a giggle when Jane smiled. "Well, I... I don't really know, to be honest. I guess he _is_ someone crush-worthy."

A loud squeal erupted from Rapunzel's lips. Jane hushed her, and Rapunzel quietly hopped on the spot. "Who is he? What's his name?" Rapunzel fired the questions at her friend, excited for her. "How about his eyes? Is he tall? Muscular?"

Jane almost couldn't keep up with Rapunzel, but she laughed at her behaviour nonetheless. "His... His name is Tarzan." she said dreamily. "He visited me in the Student Council room this morning and asked about this football issue."

Rapunzel took her paintbrush again and tinted her canvas with a lighter shade of gold. "Ooh, he's on the football team? Very classy, Jane," the painter said as she added some lavender to her work. "So he's obviously tall and muscular."

Jane put her chin in her hand and sighed. "Yes. His eyes... I've never seen eyes like his before. They're such a nice green."

"Handsome?" Rapunzel asked. It was a key question, after all.

"Very," Jane answered brightly. "He was so... _nice_ , you know? Like a real gentleman. He even complimented a simple drawing from my sketchbook!" Rapunzel could tell she was reliving said moment. "Oh, he just seemed so perfect. I mean, there's no such thing as perfect, but this morning was like a fantasy!"

"You must really like him, then." Rapunzel said, selecting a different paintbrush from her easel. She picked up one thinner one, which was better for small details. "You should ask him to go with you. I'm sure he will."

Apparently Jane was focused enough to move back to jotting down their notes for the party, but she looked at Rapunzel with befuddlement. "Good heavens, no! I have no courage to do that."

"But you want to ask him, don't you?"

Jane smiled at her, the blush inching back to her face. "Of course."

Rapunzel could tell that Jane was thinking of this Tarzan because of the small silence in their conversation. The painter let out an "ahem", which got Jane's attention. Bashful, Jane started to write again. "Well, let's switch this around," she said, raising an eyebrow at Rapunzel. "What about you? Anyone you planning to ask?"

Pausing her constant swipes of lavender paint, Rapunzel grinned to herself. "No. I haven't met anyone I'm truly interested in," she said with a short shrug.

"Really?" Jane asked. "I bet anyone would love to go with you! You're very fetching. The hair must help with that."

Rapunzel, by instinct, pulled a champagne blonde strand behind her ear. "Thanks."

"Compared to you, I must be plain. 'Plain Jane'." Jane laughed.

"Hey, don't say that," Rapunzel encouraged. "I think you're prettier than a picture. Besides," She gave the painting a few more details, her tongue sticking out as she concentrated on the picture. "You're very ladylike. Didn't you say Tarzan was like a real _gentleman?_ You two would match perfectly!"

Though, truth be told, Rapunzel was slightly envious of her friend's experience this morning. She wanted to make the most out of her life, and a major element for that goal was to meet someone special. Jane was lucky. No one had to ask if she had fallen in love. It was written all over her smile.

Rapunzel stepped back, applauding herself with the finished painting. "There," she said, hands on her hips again.

Jane got up from her seat and stood beside Rapunzel. She gasped. "That's beautiful, Rapunzel!"

"You think so?" Rapunzel asked, earning a nod from the English girl.

The piece of art was of a golden sun, with purple flowers blossoming behind it. With her thinner paintbrush, she had added small pictures of parents and children playing in the petals of the flowers. In one petal, two people were dancing together, representing that they had fallen in love. She had to admit—this was one of Rapunzel's best works yet.

"The sun design is based on this blanket I had when I was a kid," Rapunzel explained merrily. "I guess you could say this would be based on the life I wanted before my foster mother decided to scoot into it," She suddenly turned doleful and bit her lip. "Like... Ever since I've known the truth, I've wondered... _'When will my life begin?'_ And thinking about Mother Gothel just makes me feel like it won't."

Seeing her sorrow, Jane hugged Rapunzel and gave her a tight squeeze, understanding the memories she was going through. "Just don't think of the past, Rapunzel. You'll be happy in the future," Jane smiled with reassurance. "Be grateful that you're out of that condition. You're here now; at Walt Disney Academy, with your friends and real parents."

Preventing her tears from flowing, Rapunzel hugged Jane back, happy for the support. "Thanks, Jane. Thanks for saying that."

"Anytime," Jane said, releasing from the embrace.

Realizing the time, Rapunzel started packing up her art materials. She erased her depressed attitude and restored her usual, energetic self. "Well, enough with my sappy story," she said jokingly. "We should get going. I'll make sure to get those balloons we need."

Jane helped her put the canvas in a plastic bag, then proceeded to gather her own things. "Yes, please do. We probably need about two packets of them."

Taking her painting in the bag, Rapunzel nodded. "Sure. I'll see you tomorrow!"

As the two artists waved at each other, Rapunzel still wondered despite what Jane said.

 _When will my life begin?_

* * *

Flynn cursed at himself. Why did he go to the dollar store if he didn't even have a dollar with him?

It was Aladdin's idea to go "exploring" into other neighbourhoods they didn't recognize. Flynn thought it would be fun just walking and talking with him, and maybe have that brotherly bonding time, but apparently Aladdin had something up his sleeve.

Flynn should've known it was a bad idea once they reached an area filled with _manors and mansions!_ It was a community filled with rich people—if people had seen them pass by, they would know the two friends weren't a part of the community. Well, at least Flynn. Aladdin had become richer than his family ever was before, once Cassim got that business man job when Aladdin was a kid.

.

Flynn lived in a small home with his adoptive parents. They didn't have much, but Flynn never had a lot in his life, growing up as an orphan. When he had met Aladdin at the store, where he had witnessed the little boy stuffing his sweater with packages of potato chips, that was Flynn's first time escaping the orphanage. Later on that day, officers found him after he had snacked with Aladdin, and returned him to the New Grace Orphan Home.

After the orphanage owners found out he left the building without permission, Flynn was never allowed to go outside alone. He had to have an escort, or if he was playing with the other kids, at least two adults supervising them. His reputation at New Grace had gone down; from helpful to rebellious. Not that it changed the other kids' minds about him. They thought Flynn was so cool to have tiptoed out of their orphan home without anyone knowing!

As for Aladdin... As they crunched on their potato chips that afternoon, Flynn had admitted that he was from the New Grace Orphan Home, and was fending for himself since he fled. Aladdin was quiet for minutes, as if he wasn't sure how to respond. It was awkward, but Aladdin had said, _"So do you steal all the time?"_.

 _"No,"_ Flynn had replied. _"This was my first time."_

 _"But you said you were a 'thief extraordinaire'."_

Flynn frowned, disappointed in himself. _"I lied. Sorry."_

Aladdin had only given him a cheeky smile. _"Don't worry. You seemed like one to me."_

A few hours later, after Flynn came back to the orphanage, there was a knock on his window.

It was Aladdin.

Flynn had asked him what he was doing there, but Aladdin had said he wanted to say hi. He had also said he was bored at home because his dad was talking on the phone with someone important. So Flynn let him stay in his room for a while, just until the stars came out. Then Aladdin left.

Day after day, Aladdin would come visit him in secret by climbing up the tree nearby Flynn's bedroom window. The two talked and complained to each other, often agreeing that people didn't take them seriously. Eventually, the two became good friends.

But the reason why he had slipped out of the orphanage wasn't because he hated his orphan home—in fact, he loved it there! New Grace was where he was thought of as an older brother. When he turned nine, he would read his favourite story book to his fellow orphan brothers: _The Tales of Flynnigan Rider._ He loved that story; it was about a swashbuckler, and wherever he went, he would encounter exhilarating journeys.

Flynn had practically memorized the story before he first read it to the other boys. He wanted to become someone like Flynnigan Rider. That was why he lied to Aladdin when they met.

New Grace Orphan Home knew him as "Eugene".

One evening, when he was twelve, Flynn was called up to meet a young couple who were planning to adopt. He was the oldest boy at New Grace, and he wanted to be adopted soon. Maybe there was a couple out there that would let him go on his own adventures.

He had put on his best smile for the couple, and even said some jokes for a good touch. The couple, Mr. and Mrs. Fitzherbert, had told the orphanage owner that Flynn was charming, and what they imagined their son to be.

The next morning, Flynn had a new family.

 _"Welcome home,"_ his adoptive dad had said, patting his back when they arrived at the small, cozy house. _"Eugene_ Fitzherbert _."_

.

Coming back to the present, Flynn bit his bottom lip. _Don't tell me I have to steal._

He had to be honest with himself—he found thievery quite fun, if he wasn't caught by the police. But he knew if he kept on stealing, he'd have to face the law. And jail didn't sound snugly. Well, if he was going to steal, he would only be stealing a bag of chips. Regardless, it would be considered as a theft.

"You're gonna get caught," he whispered to himself, still undecided.

"You already have."

Jerking away from the voice, Flynn turned and saw a girl with big green eyes and long, medallion-coloured hair. For a moment, Flynn was somehow hypnotized by her beauty, but quickly snapped out of it once he noticed she was wearing a uniform that matched his.

"Hi," he said, stiffening at her skepticism. His hands clasped around the bag of chips. "You know, I was just... Uh—"

She cut him off. "I know you..." she said, peering at him. Flynn gulped. "You're from Walt Disney... Oh! You're _Pickpocket!_ "

He laughed nervously. Flynn should be used to the nickname, but having a girl call him that was pretty upsetting. He was happy to know that he was recognized. Now a little more confident, he straightened himself. "Yeah. So you know me?"

"Well, _duh!_ Who doesn't? You and that other guy, um... Aladdin? Yeah, that's him," The blonde nodded to herself. "You guys are _Double Trouble!_ "

Flynn wasn't happy with the label, but he smiled at the pretty girl anyways. "Yeah. That's us."

The girl realized she made him uncomfortable and giggled. "Oops. Sorry. I tend to ramble," she apologized. "I was just minding my own business but I couldn't help notice that we went to the same school. Then your face seemed familiar. Originally, I was just going to say hi, but when I got closer, you said something weird."

She cleared her throat before extending a hand, her mistrustful personality gone. "I'm Rapunzel."

He shook it. "Flynn Rider."

"Right! So that's your name," she said. Flynn was relieved to see her bubbly side, but her eyes became doubtful again. "About what you said—"

"Well," he interrupted, not wanting her to touch the subject. "It was nice meeting you, Blondie, but I'm afraid I have to go."

When he was just about to walk away, Rapunzel held her arms out, blocking him. "You're not going anywhere until you explain what _'You're going to get caught'_ means." She smirked at him, like she was triumphant. "Were you talking to yourself?"

Flynn ran his right hand through his hickory hair with a sigh as he held the bag of chips in the other hand. "Look, Blondie—"

"—Rapunzel."

"Gesundheit," he said jokingly. "I'll be on my way now, if you don't mind."

Annoyed, Rapunzel swiftly snatched the bag of chips out of his hand. Before he could argue, Rapunzel spoke. "I could run to one of the employees and tell them everything."

Flynn scoffed. "They wouldn't believe you."

"Oh, yes they would."

"And what proof do you have?"

"Hmph," Rapunzel merely tossed the chips back to him. Fumbling, he barely caught it. "Suit yourself. Go on, steal it," she urged. Flynn found her sudden behaviour strange, but he prepared himself to run. But he couldn't even take his first step.

"If you want proof, why don't you look behind you? There's a security camera on the ceiling."

Flynn wanted to doubt her proposal, but he unwillingly looked. Sure enough, there was a security camera which taped their whole conversation and actions.

There was no way that he could get away with it.

Slightly impressed, Flynn walked over to the chip rack and returned the bag. He rose an eyebrow at Rapunzel. "You're pretty smart, you know?"

Laughing, she nodded, pleasuring herself. "Of course I do, Flynn. I mean, the camera was right there."

"Yeah, yeah," Flynn rolled his eyes, walking passed her. He gave her a little grin. "I'll see you around. Thanks for doing what's right."

Yet again, she was too quick for him. She called out to him before he could step out the door. "Flynn," she said. He turned and saw her holding the same bag of chips he was going to run off with. "You know, I feel kinda bad. I'll buy them for you."

He could've sworn his heart skipped a beat.

At first, he was going to reject the offer, but Rapunzel seemed to sincerely want to buy them. He smiled at her again. "Thanks," he said.

Rethinking of the offer he just accepted, he suspected that maybe Rapunzel wanted something out of this. Why was she being kind to _Pickpocket?_ The one at Walt Disney known for quietly taking other people's property away? She must've been crazy for doing so.

But when Flynn saw her sweet smile, he told himself that he was being paranoid.

He followed her to the cashier, who was a plump lady who looked to be around her fifties. She flashed her dimples.

Waiting in front of the candy rack, Flynn watched in awe as Rapunzel placed the bag of chips and a packet of balloons on the counter. The cashier, Flynn noticed, was inspecting the two of them. Then the chubby lady giggled. "You two look like a lovely couple," said the cashier.

Blush came to Flynn's face. He had to admit; he quite wanted to be with Rapunzel. She seemed decent—well, _more_ than decent—attractive, clever, sympathetic... Although he wouldn't be surprised if she already had a boyfriend.

Interested in the conversation between them, Flynn listened on. But Rapunzel was baffled at the lady's proposition. She laughed. "Oh, we're not dating, ma'am."

The items were gently packets into a bag. Flynn's heated up again when the cashier's eyes lingered to him and said, "You two still look like a lovely couple."

Rapunzel let out another laugh, as if she knew it was an impossible act. "Sure," Rapunzel responded. "Thank you, ma'am."

The cashier waved at them as they exited the store. "Have a good evening, you two."

Once they were outside, Rapunzel looked up at Flynn with a questioning expression. "So, Flynn," she started with another smile.

"Yeah?" Flynn answered, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He stared at her long hair, which fell to her waist.

When his eyes focused on her face again, Rapunzel shrugged and stared at the sky. She giggled as she thought of something. "Why did you go to the dollar store if you didn't have a dollar with you?"

* * *

.

 **Note: *** Vanellope is still very sour among those she just met, but for Tinkerbell's situation, I think she'd only want to butt-in  
just to see the outcome of the relationship with Peter. After realizing that Tinkerbell was really in love with him, Vanellope  
would want to be there for Tink. But when she declines her help, Vanellope would become bitter again and start ignoring her.

.

Hope you enjoyed. :)


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